


like laurel begging hardy for a gun

by geneeste



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Fic amnesty, Gen, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geneeste/pseuds/geneeste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s something there, nagging at him in the back of his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like laurel begging hardy for a gun

**Author's Note:**

> Amnesty for an incomplete ficathon entry. As always, if you want to take it, it's yours, just leave a comment so I can enjoy it when you're done. :) Also, for the life of me, I cannot remember why I chose this title. I do know it's a lyric from a Josh Ritter song, Girl in the War: 
> 
> Peter said to Paul/you know all those rules we wrote/  
> Are just the rules of the game, and the rules are the first to go/  
> and now talking to God is like Laurel begging Hardy for a gun/  
> I got a girl in the war/  
> man I wonder what it is we done

“What do you think about the bookcase against this wall?” Sam called to Daniel, who was in the kitchen trying to shove the refrigerator back into place.

“Hang on,” he called back. Jack watches her wince as more sounds of metal scraping against tile wade into the living room.

“Uh, Teal’c, maybe you should…” He doesn’t have to finish the sentence, because Teal’c is already halfway to the hallway. He can’t help but grin at the resigned look of patience on the man’s face as he passes.

They’d been around town all weekend trying to buy, trade, and – in some cases – demand back all the things they’d gotten rid of when they’d thought Daniel was dead.

It wasn’t easy. The man had a lot of stuff.

They’d gotten most of the furniture back, and now it was a just a matter of going through the personal belongings that they hadn’t been able to give or throw away.

In front of him, Sam steps back to survey her positioning of the bookcase and frowns. “I don’t know. I think it makes the place look too crowded.”

He looks up from the box he’s going through, incredulous. “You remember what this place looked like, don’t you? Besides, we only got half his stuff back. How crowded can it be?”

One side of her mouth tilts up. “You have a point.” She glances at him sideways. “You think he’s going to notice that we read his journals, sir?”

He scowls at her. “Probably not. Even if he does, he’d probably just ask me what I thought of his theories about the origins of advanced technology in Phoenician societies.”

She’s arching an eyebrow at him now, and he gives into the urge to clear his throat. “Not that I was paying attention. I was mostly looking for where he stashes his extra cash.”

“In the cupboard inside the crock pot he never uses.”

He turns sharply and stares. She’s wearing an amused, smug look, and he has to concentrate hard on unclenching the muscles in his stomach.

She looks at him and quickly away again. “Not that I was paying attention.”

There’s something there, nagging at him in the back of his mind. He’s still trying to figure out what it is when Daniel and Teal’c come back from the kitchen.

Daniel’s adjusting his glasses and looking between the two of them. “What about the bookcase?”

\-----

It's late in the evening, and Cassie and Janet are both gone by the time Jack steps into the infirmary. He nods at Warner over in the corner at his desk, and heads towards the curtain separating Sam from the rest of the room.

Stepping around the material, he sees Sam on her side facing him. Her eyes open, still a little bleary, and settle on him as he sits.

“Sir.”

She moves to sit up but he waves her off even as he’s relieved that she felt up to making the effort. “How you doing?”

She’s getting comfortable again. She’s got one hand under the pillow. “Fine.”

He nods, not sure why he feels so tense. “Yeah.”

He leans forward, putting elbows on his knees. He tries not to notice how pale she still is. “When are they letting you out?”

She shrugs a little. “In a couple of days. Janet wants to make sure there aren’t any problems as my body absorbs the symbiote.”

He winces at the mention of it. And hears the flatness in her voice that he knows won’t go away for a while. “Makes sense.”

He can’t seem to hold her eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. He doesn’t know why – it’s not like he has something to hide.

“Do you remember much?”

She swallows, and when she replies her voice is hoarse. “I remember everything.”

After a beat of silence, he stands again. The restlessness that brought him there suddenly makes him impatient to leave. “Well, I just came by to see how you were feeling.” 

Never mind that he hadn’t asked that question. Not really. “Do you need anything?”

He knows she’s watching him; he won’t – or can’t – acknowledge her. “No, sir. I’m fine.”

He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Good. Sleep well.”

It’s a ridiculous thing to say, but it’s the only thing he has.

“Yes, sir. I will.”

He leaves her to the dark quiet of the infirmary.


End file.
